We spent the weekend visiting two of our younger grandchildren. Most of the time, the younger of the two sort of glares at us as if we have been examined and found wanting. But this time was different. I became…”The Chosen One“. For some reason, she decided that I was not just okay but quite the thing. When she bumped her head, she ran right past her mother crying for her Nana. When she wanted a book read, only Nana would do. When she had a “gift” from her nose – you got it: Nana.
How do we decide who we run to when we are hurt or want to hear a story? Who do we choose to seek out and turn to not only in times of distress but when we have something to share or want someone to spend time with?
Given how delighted I was to be The Chosen One, I can only imagine how delighted God is when we run past where we usually turn when we are hurt or sad or lonely, straight into His arms.
Just Sayin' 